


The Bad Old Days

by orphan_account



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Blackwatch Reaper | Gabriel Reyes, Light Angst, Other, Prefall, like the lightest and softest of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-03
Updated: 2019-05-03
Packaged: 2020-02-16 09:43:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18688972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: A short drabble to get into the swing of writing for Gabe.Another mission gone south. Another ride home, picking up the pieces as you go.





	The Bad Old Days

The dropship shuddered once before gliding smoothly out of the city, leaving behind you craters and columns of black smoke. It was getting harder and harder to call missions successful nowadays, and this one was no different.

You couldn’t even bring yourself to watch the lights of the city shrink away below you, too wrapped up in catching your breath on the row of seats that lined the cabin. Your eyes stayed glued to the floor as you fumbled with the Blackwatch-issue body armor that felt as though it was suffocating you. Your breathing remained even, but you could feel _something_ rising in your chest; something between a sob and a… _scream?_ You gave in to neither.

The frustration you were feeling must have manifested itself in your movements though, because next thing you knew, you were tugging more forcefully on the straps of your chest plate. Your brows furrowed as the material refused to slide through the buckles, and you ground your teeth together.

_Get. This. Fucking. Thing._ **_Off._ **

You hardly noticed as hot tears sprung up in your eyes, but scarce had they begun to fall when you felt a weight on your shoulders. There were two hands then, brushing your own aside and gently undoing the buckles themselves. You let your own hands fall limply into your lap, all your fire suddenly extinguished and replaced with something that wasn’t really embarrassment. You were too tired to feel embarrassed.

_Pitiful._

Pitiful, but that didn’t stop your commander from quietly helping you out of the offending gear. A whispered _“c’mon,”_ and you were prompted to hold your arms out, just enough to pull the chest piece away. Breathing came a little easier then.

Everything came a little easier with Gabe.

He crouched down in front of you, though he didn’t initiate eye contact, instead giving you just enough privacy to swipe at gathering tears while he undid the straps of your heavy shinguards.

“You didn’t have to…” Your voice comes out quiet and reserved, meant only for him.  You felt yourself slowly deflating, your mind going to the same place it always did after a bad job. Your shoulders dropped a little more.

Gabriel looked up at you, tucking the straps of the shinguards in place and setting them under the seat. You were thankful to have the weight off your legs.

“I know.” His voice is quiet too, but more tired, more comforting.

He seemed to catch the vacant look clouding your eyes then. So began the old ritual anew.

Gabe took his seat beside you on the bench, putting himself between you and the wandering eyes of the other recruits. An arm found its way across your shoulders, coaxing you closer, and only tugging when you leaned into it.

“ _Hey._ ” He scooted to the edge of his seat. “Wanna talk about it?” He knew you wouldn’t, not right now at least. But it felt right to ask.

You shook your head minutely, just like always.

He hated that this was your normal, but at least you _were_ normal.

The mission was a bust, but that was nothing new. The war — _everything —_ just felt like another entry in a long list of lost causes to people like you and Gabe, but that didn’t stop you from trying.

And that wore on you both sometimes.

Gabe nodded, knowing you weren’t looking at him, and gave your arm a light squeeze.

“Maybe later.”


End file.
